The Opiate, Summer Vol. 2
Sebastian’s Babylon: Chapter 2 Daniel Adler The previous spring Sebastian finished college. In the days following he locked himself in his room, studying and reading to prepare for graduate school. Sundays, his father Michael invited him to Costco but he never joined. Sebastian didn’t like fluorescent lights. Michael was a neurosurgeon and he operated frequently, often late into the evening. When he arrived home after dark, he wondered if Sebastian had eaten yet. Aside from a missing can of tuna or a few less lentils in the pantry, it was impossible to tell whether he had even left his room. Those nights Michael came home early, he prepared cod, salmon or sole and tried to engage his son in conversation. When Sebastian did open up, it was with psychobabble about energy fields and beauty, power and the will to create, with insinuations about Michael valuing “dirty lucre” more than love. One Saturday afternoon, Michael walked to Sebastian’s room to ask him what he wanted for dinner. The shag carpet muffled his footsteps so that he went unnoticed in the downstairs wing, but this time he wished he had been heard. From
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down the hall came a crescendoing song. Was he reading Finnegans Wake aloud? He knocked lightly. The chanting stopped. He knocked again and without a response, opened the door to find Sebastian sitting cross-legged in a circle of books. He wore only boxer shorts and his hair needed to be combed. When he stood, the front fly squared open and Michael accidentally glimpsed his son’s genitalia. This, which he had not seen for some fifteen years, was enough to unsettle him. But his underwear remained this way, further exposing his nakedness. Sebastian’s dark blue eyes steadied on his realm of literature. “What do you want for dinner?” asked Michael. Sebastian shrugged and brushed his hair back from his forehead, focusing on Michael’s mouth. Like most, Sebastian’s two eyes were different, but lately they seemed slightly crossed, as though he were favoring the right one. The left was lower and drifted to the right, out of focus. The overall effect was unnerving; it seemed like he was thinking of something else. Or he was on drugs.
